


Like Me

by lydslibrary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Edgeplay, F/M, Light Bondage, Oral, Rough Sex, SPN Smut, Sam Winchester/Reader Smut, Sex, Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester, Soulless Sam Winchester SMUT, Soulless!Sam, Supernatural smut, sam winchester smut, serial killer reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydslibrary/pseuds/lydslibrary
Summary: Y/N is a serial killer who's eyeing Sam Winchester as her next victim... things don't go as planned when she realizes that he's a lot like her.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 48





	Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for SPN AU Bingo on Tumblr! Square filled: Serial Killer AU.
> 
> I've never written something like this before (I mean, I didn't know what AU stood for before I joined Tumblr in May) ((also, I would like to add that I am not a serial killer I just watch too much Criminal Minds)) but it was a challenge and I really enjoyed dipping my toes into the AU waters. Anyway, enjoy!

I enjoyed watching the life leave their bodies. What have men ever been good for? Men like my father who leave as soon as they found out they knocked the girl up, men like my ex-boyfriend who would cheat on me, lie to me... Yeah, I enjoyed watching the life leave the bodies of men like that. This man, the one who kept staring at me as I worked, he seemed like one of those men. I haven’t killed in a while. I was itching to kill. He stood at about six-foot-four. I could take him. His expression was blank, his eyes empty, dark… soulless even. Like me. I often wondered if I had a soul. I haven’t fully decided on a verdict yet, but I’m leaning towards probably not. I enjoy killing too much to have a soul. _Fuck, I need a release_. I check my watch; my shift’s over in 20. The way he’s looking at me, I want him writhing beneath me, begging for his life. _Stop looking at me like that_. He was looking at me how I look at men. Like I want to kill them. Is he like me? Does he want to kill me? _Could be a fun challenge._

I smirk at him on my way out the door with the hope that he’d follow. I can hear the jingle of the bell above the door as I make my way to my car; he got the hint. I hear his footsteps behind me, the gravel of the parking lot crunching beneath his shoes as he walked. I whipped around when I got to my car, leaning against the driver’s side door.

“You’ve been looking at me all night,” I say, staring into the man’s empty eyes.

“You’re hot,” he says simply. I smile. _This one’s gonna be fun._

“Get in,” I say, nodding towards the passenger’s side door. He smirks. He has no idea what’s coming. I get in my car and start the ignition. We sit in silence for a while as I drive home. “What’s your name?” I finally ask; I liked getting to know my victims. I’m sick, I know.

“Sam,” he replies, staring out the window. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” I use my real name. They never get away. They’ll die alongside their sexism and misogyny knowing who killed them. “Where you from, Sam?”

“Everywhere.”

I pounced as soon as we walked through the door. He was under me, I had him, I swear I had him. He was too good; a fighter if I’ve ever seen one. Better than me; that’s why I’m the one tied to the chair.

“This some kink of yours? Hitting on women, following them home, tying them to chairs?” I ask.

He chuckled. It was like a low rumble. Like soft thunder erupting from his throat. “Let’s not forget who invited me into her car, hm? Or who attacked me? You don’t get to play victim here, Y/N.”

I hated that he knew my name. I regretted telling him my name, but the way it fell off his lips… I didn’t regret telling him my name.

“What do you want?” I spit, tugging on the ropes that had my arms tied behind a wooden chair. This chair was part of a dining set I got at a flea market. Right after a kill. A little reward for myself for taking another scumbag off the planet.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“What?” I look at him sitting across from me, a smug look on his face, leaning back in a chair just like the one I was tied to, relaxed, his jean-clad legs spread apart. Fucking men. Even the way they sit is cocky; like they have power over you at all times.

“You’re the one who’s been killing all those men,” he says, “Why? Is it a kinky thing?”

I’m quiet. I don’t dare say a word. Who is he? The police? FBI?

“Who are you?”

“I’m like you,” he says with a devilish smile. Something about it makes me tense up, in a good way. Someone like me? I knew he was like me. 

“You’re a killer, too?”

“Oh… I dabble. Of course, I have an excuse. I have no soul.”

“Welcome to the club,” I say. _I knew it._

He got up from his chair and walked over to mine, leaning in close to my face, his hands resting on the arms of my chair on either side of me, “I’m afraid you’re not a part of that club, doll,” he whispered. It sent chills down my spine. Why was it sending chills down my spine?

“How would you know?”

“I could kill you right now, and feel absolutely nothing. You? If I were to untie you right now, you wouldn’t kill me, would you?”

I gulped. How did he know that? It’s like he could he feel the heat that had been growing in between my legs. He chuckles again. That same, low rumble. _Stop doing that_.

“Yeah, I thought so. Lucky for you, I didn’t come here with you to kill you. I came here to fuck.”

Who was he? It’s been years since a man has turned me on like this. Am I so fucked in the head that I need a man who’s just as fucked to make me wet? Probably. The way he was looking at me was different; there was hunger in his eyes now. He ran his tongue over his lips. The desire I had for him to run his tongue over parts of me was overwhelming. He must’ve sensed it; his tongue was on my neck. I gasped; is this really happening? I squeezed my thighs together; I could feel my panties start to dampen. I was wearing a skirt; part of my work uniform. Easy access. _Please, please touch me_. He read my mind again; I felt his fingers on my heat, rubbing me over the cotton layer. That chuckle again.

“Such a little whore, hm? Wet for me already. I guess you don’t usually fuck your men before you kill them?” He whispers in my ear, his hot breath giving me goosebumps.

“I don’t kill men worth fucking,” I reply, trying to sound confident, but my voice shakes. What’s he doing to me?

“Funny. I haven’t fucked a woman yet who was worth my time, but you seem different. I guess we’ll see.”

I hated him. Every disgusting, sexist word that came out of his mouth. I wanted to slit his beautiful fucking throat. His fingers moved my panties aside. I wanted to cut all of them off. All ten of them, not just the two that were slowly moving through my folds, drenched in my slick. He was exploring, memorizing, studying, concentrating on me. On my body. I was his now. I had no power anymore. I was his without having to say it. My mind switched back and forth between wanting to kill him and wanting to be savagely, mercilessly, fucked by him. His fingers slid into me. That chuckle again when I moaned. He was still leaning over me, his breath ragged and steady against my ear as he pumped his fingers in and out of me.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he whispers.

The “sweetheart” isn’t said sweetly. It’s said in the same way that an asshole stranger on the street would yell, “Hey, sweetheart, give me a smile!”. It’s the same “sweetheart” that I’d kill a man over. _That I have killed a man over. That I’ve killed men over_. However, for some reason, when the word left his lips, it only made me want him more. He was full to the brim with confidence, yet so obviously empty. He was the shell of whoever he used to be; probably someone kind and caring. Someone who gave a damn. Now he was… well, he reminded me a lot of me. The men I kill… they don’t ever remind me of me. The men I kill have some semblance of a soul remaining; that’s why they beg for their lives, it’s why they say they’ll change if I spare them. My breath hitches as his long fingers push their way deeper into me. He didn’t want me thinking about anything other than what he was doing to me. I’m sure there was a small puddle forming on the seat of the chair between my thighs; I was so wet that I could barely feel his fingers in me anymore. He adds a third and smiles devilishly when I gasp at the feeling of my cunt being stretched. It’s been so long since I last had sex. Too long. He kneels down in front of me and my pussy clenches around his fingers with anticipation of what was to come. He pulls out of me briefly, only to rip my panties off and force my legs apart, and then puts his three fingers right back where they were before. He licks his lips before he leans in between my thighs, his tongue exploring every inch of my folds, purposefully ignoring the one spot I wanted him the most. I squirm under the ropes that are keeping me tied down; I want to snake my hands through his hair, I want to keep him right where he is for as long as possible. He chuckles again, the low rumble sending vibrations through my body, and I bite back a moan. He still won’t touch my clit; he was teasing me and enjoying every bit of it. _And I’m the sadistic one?_

“Sam, please,” I breathe. It isn’t like me to beg, but at this point I’ll do anything to get the touch that I so badly desired.

“Well, since you asked nicely,” he hums, as he finally brings his lips to meet my clit. My thighs come together instinctively, only to be caught by his hands and be pushed apart again. The absence of his fingers in me draw a whine from my throat, but his hands stay where they are with a firm grip on my inner thighs. “If you’re gonna move, I’m gonna have to hold you still,” he explains as he came up for a breath of air only to go back down again. He was sucking on my clit while flicking his tongue over it simultaneously and it was almost too much to bear. Almost painful, even. There is nothing I can do to keep myself from squirming. Every movement he makes with his mouth makes me want to recoil from how sensitive I am, but he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, Sam, please,” I beg, beginning to learn that I was going to have to ask for the things that I wanted.

“Please what?” He asks, a smirk on his face as he pulls away from my core for a second. I can see my juices glistening around his mouth and chin and I took a deep breath. It’s hard for me to focus on anything but him.

“I’m so sensitive Sam, please, I just…,” I lose my train of thought.

“Aw,” he teases as he pushes his bottom lip out into a pout, “you’re sensitive? That’s just too damn bad I guess.”

He dives his head back in between my thighs, showing absolutely no mercy on my clit. I can’t tell if each flick of his tongue is painful or pleasant, though it seems to alternate. I try to squeeze my thighs together but he’s still holding them in place. I let out a moan as he continues to eat me out; there was no point in trying to hide my arousal or enjoyment from him anymore. He licks a few more stripes up my folds before finally standing up and pulling a small knife out from his back pocket. Usually, I would’ve gone into survival mode. But I trust him. For some God-forsaken reason, I trust him. He walks over to stand behind me and cuts the ropes that were binding me to the chair, leaving the ropes that were keeping my wrists together behind my back alone. He grabs me by my upper arm; his hand almost fit all the way around my bicep.

“Where’s the bedroom?” He growls, and I nod towards the door down the hall. He practically drags me there, forcefully pushing the door open. He walks over to the edge of my bed, his hand still squeezing my arm, and sits down on the edge mattress, dragging me down to my knees in front of him. He sits the same way he was in the chair outside; relaxed, confident, legs spread. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “You know how to suck cock, Y/N?” He asks. I nod. He smirks and begins to undo his belt, the button on his jeans, and the zipper. He stands up a little so he can slide off his pants, his erection fully visible to me now through his boxers. Fuck, he’s big. I want him inside me. He takes off his boxers and his cock springs up from them. I lick my lips; I can’t remember the last time I had a cock in my mouth. I used to love sucking dick; it gave me a sense of power. He leans back on the bed on his hands, his legs still spread in front of me, a drop of precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Get to work, then,” he commands, and I lower my head, closing my lips around his cock, moving my tongue around the tip. I bob my head up and down, wishing so badly that my hands were not still tied behind my back. His cock was long and thick, and taking all of him was a challenge. It would be easier if I had my hand to cover the base of it with. He snakes his hand in my hair, forcing my head down on his cock. He thrusts into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat with each thrust. I pinch the area of my hand between my thumb and pointer finger; a trick I learned a long time ago to subdue a gag reflex. There’s spit dripping down my chin and running down Sam’s cock, and I feel so dirty, but in a good way. Sam finally pulls me off his cock and stands me up as he stands up himself. He bends me over my bed; there hasn’t been a man who’s fucked me on this bed or in this room or in my house in years. Not since I started killing them. I can feel my juices running down my thighs, and I turn my head to watch as Sam rips my skirt off and bends a little at his knees, lining his cock up with my entrance. He thrusts into me, hard. I feel nothing but pleasure, probably due to the fact that he had spent quite a while stretching me out earlier.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he grunts between thrusts. He grabs my hips, pounding into me harder.

“Fuck, Sam,” I moan. I couldn’t help it; I’ve never been fucked this good.

“Forgot what it feels like to be fucked, hm?” He pants, as he continues to thrust into me. I did forget. Or maybe I never knew that I could be fucked like this, or how much I’d enjoy it; feeling like someone’s fuck toy. Or maybe it was just Sam and the way that all of this was so natural to him; the way he carried himself, the way he fucked. Sam thrusts into me a few more times, grunting as he got closer and closer to his climax. His cock twitches and I felt his warm cum fill me, coating my walls. I’ve never had a man cum inside me before. I don’t think I’d let anyone but Sam do it again. _God, what’s happening to me? Why am I giving myself over to him like this?_ Sam pulls out of me and unties my wrists from behind my back, flipping me over and pulling the ropes, my individual wrists still tied to them, to the front of my body. “Move to the middle of the bed and lie down,” he commands, still a little out of breath, and I obey. He ties my hands above my head to my headboard. “Don’t move,” he hisses.

“As long as you don’t Gerald’s Game me,” I reply. He pauses as if to think about it. For a minute I thought he might actually leave me there, tied to my headboard, his cum dripping out of me, my clit pulsing, begging for an orgasm. He chuckles. _That damn chuckle._ He leans in close to my face, his hands resting on the mattress beside me.

“I know a dirty whore like you has a vibrator here somewhere?” He whispers. There go the chills down my spine again. I nod towards the dresser.

“Top drawer,” I breathe. My heart is pounding with anticipation. I don’t think a man has ever gotten me off after sex. Sam finds my vibrator under a pile of underwear in the top drawer of my dresser. I watch him as he walks over to the end of my bed, holding the one thing that’s been able to give me an orgasm for the past five years. He crawls onto the bed, on his knees, and makes himself comfortable between my legs. He spreads them forcefully, his large hand grabbing the underside of my thigh and pushing it up towards me. He smiles at the view; my dripping cunt with his cum still leaking out of it. He turns on the vibrator and places id directly on my swollen clit, causing me to squirm.

“Stay still,” he growls, and I do my best to focus on anything but how incredibly sensitive I was. I take a deep breath and tense every muscle in my body in attempt to follow Sam’s order. “You’re an obedient little slut, aren’t you?” He asks with a teasing smile. I wasn’t. Especially not to men. But Sam, he wasn’t a man. He was the shell of one. He was a dark, soulless, empty being in a man’s body, and for some reason, I didn’t want to do anything _but_ obey him. I feel the familiar heat in my abdomen begin to rise, and it’s taking all I have to not move against the vibrator. I need more friction. Sam plunges two fingers inside of me without warning, causing me to yelp and arch my back. He chuckles again, clearly enjoying the hold he has over me. The power he has over me. He leans over me, his face close to mine again. “Do not cum until I say you can.” With these words, I was on the edge. I have never had a man dominate me like this, and fuck, was I enjoying every bit of it. I arch my back further as my orgasm builds up inside me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathe, trying to hold it in, scared of what Sam would do if I disobeyed him.

“You wanna cum?” He asks, his voice low and lined with a smile.

“Yes, Sam, please,” I beg. I was almost there. Sam pulled the vibrator off my clit, causing me to whimper. “Sam, please,” I say again, looking up at him with the biggest puppy-dog eyes I could muster. He smirks and puts the vibrator back on my clit again, my orgasm building back up twice as fast. He does this a few times, bringing me to the edge and then stopping, until finally, I hear the words that I’ve been listening for. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

My orgasm shoots through me. I arch my back and curl my toes, feeling the euphoria in every part of my body. My eyes roll back into my head and my brain short-circuits for a minute. I ride it out and then lay there, still, sweating, and out of breath. Sam unties my wrists from the headboard and I let them fall to my sides. I don’t want to move, ever. Even killing never left me this exhausted. Sam stares at me, the empty look back in his eyes. “What?” I ask.

“You need any help with your next kill? All that got my adrenaline going.”


End file.
